Winter, Please Go Away
by unsure-author
Summary: Tweek and Craig find comfort in each other during the most confusing winter of their lives. Cover picture credited to TheAngelOfMemories on Deviantart!
1. Chapter 1: Snow Queen

_My hands are cold. I can't feel the tips of my fingers._

_Everything is dark._

_I want to be warm. I'd give anything to feel warmth again._

_Someone help me._

_I think I'm dying._

* * *

Kenny looked over at me. "Craig, this kid kinda sucks." I rolled my eyes and tried to focus on the music. The guitarist was lanky and long, shivering in the cold, snowy air despite his thick flannel shirt. His entire body looked like a folded umbrella frame, his skinny arms and legs cradling the guitar. With almost skeletal fingers he plucked the strings, his song launching into a delicate plucking of single notes.

"_She whispers cold words; each is like a snowflake, ice made to hurt, bringing heartache. She has cold hands, fingers made of ice, frozen hair strands, I'm left at her device…" _ He sang with aching longing, his words hollowing out my heart in a way I'd never felt before. I found myself leaning forward, trying to see the color of his eyes. He was bent over his guitar, heavy eyelids half closed as he started the chorus. "_Oh, if only Snow Queen could see, how warm I could be, I'd melt that icy heart, please let me in, let me in, oh Snow Queen, I'd be the warm dream you'd never want to wake from, Snow Queen."_

"Dude, let's go!" Clyde whined on my left. I flipped him off without taking my eyes off my new man-crush.

_"Never let herself thaw, heart like stone, leaves me in awe, my body that she's left undone. Snow Queen likes easy boys, chilly to her center, I'll be a broken toy, if I could only enter… Oh, if only Snow Queen could see, how hot I can be, I'd burn her icy skin, please let me in, let me in, oh Snow, Snow Queen, I'll begin to melt you down, you'll ever shiver again, Snow Queen!" _His song finished on a few muted, sad chords, and he bowed his head. I applauded, along with a few other spectators. Damn he was good. He was some new kid at school, and when he whipped that guitar out at lunch, everyone expected him to just know a few chords to some shitty All Time Low songs and had gathered around to ridicule him.

But he actually had talent, and I felt respect for him. If he was a woman I'd have proposed to him then and there. I find there's nothing sexier than a girl who plays guitar. The crowd began to break up as he packed his guitar away, a slightly sad look on his face.

"Boring!" Kenny cried. Clyde snickered in agreement and high-fived him. I walked away from them, letting their protests bounce off my back as I approached the new kid.

"What's your name." I stated blandly. I never ask questions. I don't have the range of tone required to do that kind of thing. The kid looked up in surprise. My eyes widened, and I tried to express as much shock as I could muster, stating simply, "Tweek."

"Y-yeah." Tweek said softly, one hand rubbing the back of his neck.

My mind raced with the astounding fact that Tweek Tweak had come back to South Park. He was taken out of school in the eighth grade after what a lot of kids called 'a total freak-out psycho episode'. Last I'd heard of him, his family had moved to Montana and were trying to start up a coffee house there. "What the fuck are you doing back here."

"Uh, my mom and dad moved me back here, o-over the summer. They said I'm well enough to go to school with normal kids again. Agh! Not that I'm not normal, and not that you guys are like, conformists. I'm just saying. Uh. Normal kids. Not crazy kids." Tweek ended the rant with a sheepish smile, his hand beginning to scratch the back of his neck nervously.

I looked him over, trying to reconcile past Tweek with this odd kid sitting in front of me. The old Tweek was such a mess, with his wild hair and incorrectly buttoned shirts. I had always wondered why the hell he wore buttoned shirts when they were so hard for him. This Tweek, though, was almost cool looking. He was still wearing those stupid buttoned shirts, but the top two were the only ones undone. His blonde hair was still unkempt, but in that 'cool' way that hipsters always strived for. He wore glasses with olive green frames that mirrored the color of his eyes perfectly. Tweek had grown up, so skinny and tall. I was vaguely impressed.

"You play guitar good." I stated, pulling a cigarette from my pocket and lighting up. If a teacher walked by, I'd be screwed, but luckily the corner of the lunch yard we were sitting in was surrounded by trees. It was my habitual smoke spot.

"Thanks. It's g-good therapy. Music calms the savage breast." It seemed like he whispered everything, except for the occasional outbursts. My earbud abused eardrums had to work in overdrive to hear his soft, little baby-bird voice. "I wrote that song a year ago. It's about…" His eyes suddenly glazed over, like he was in another world.

"What."

Tweek snapped out of it in a panic. "AGH! Oh, jeez, oh man, I am so sorry, I sometimes drift off it's this stupid medication I usually don't take it because it makes me fuzzy b-but there was an electrical outage this morning in my room and I was a-afraid of being in the dark and the pill m-makes me calmer and oh my god!" Tweek screamed as I put my hand out to him.

It was my second favorite gesture of all time. Flipping the bird is obviously the first favorite. In this one, I simply raised my hand, open palmed, and then snapped it shut, my pointer finger taking the traditional 'shhh' tone. I did it so often, people instantly recognized it. It's a pretty sweet gesture that I use when people incessantly annoy me with their annoying voices and annoying opinions.

I don't have many friends.

Tweek had shut up, and I took the opportunity to enlighten him to my personal philosophy. "I don't care why you do what you do. If it annoys me, I'll walk away. If it offends me, I'll probably punch you. If I like it, I'll stick around. Stop trying to rationalize yourself. I don't fucking care either way." With that, I walked off, tired from talking so much to one person.

I could hear some weak, little birdie protests behind me, but I paid them no mind. It's always been hard for me to interact with others. I've learned that people rarely say things I want to listen to. I only hang out with Kenny and Clyde because half of the time they can make me laugh, and they're the only ones who put up with my shit. The snow crunched under my feet as I took the last drag on my cigarette. It sizzled softly when it hit the snow. My boot crushed it, the tobacco spilling out of the end into the pure snow. Up ahead, by the old courtyard benches, I saw Kenny and Clyde, pantomiming dick-sucking motions and laughing. Flipping the bird, I joined them.

"So, did he agree to blow you after school?" Kenny drawled. I snickered and shook my head.

"Nah. That's Tweek, by the way."

Craig and Kenny flipped their shit. Kenny stood up and began flapping his arms like a lunatic, crying 'Tweeky TweekTweekerson' at the top of his lungs, while Clyde acted like a serial killer had just broken into the school and taken them all hostage.

"God, that kid's a psycho," Clyde said, eyes as big as saucers, "Now his little song he did makes me creeped out. That damn 'Snow Queen' is probably some bitch he slaughtered and then had sex with after she was all dead and cold and stuff. Ew."

Kenny, apparently having gotten Tweek's attention, started dancing and making kissy faces. This was his usual way of saying hello to his friends, so he obviously had a more positive position on the whole Tweek situation than Clyde did. I smacked Kenny upside the head, swearing under my breath that he'd better not attract that freaky kid over to us.

I was out of luck. I heard his tiny voice behind me. "Kenny," Tweek said, "You're still here? W-why are you hanging out with th-these guys." Kenny made big pouty fish lips at him.

"Stan, Kyle, and Cartman have been getting douche-y lately and I got tired of dying from their stupid antics. So I went with Craig! I am always safe and warm with this dumb motherfucker!" Kenny shouted the last part, causing half of the courtyard to turn and look at me. I flipped them off collectively.

Tweek giggled, appreciating Kenny's wiggly demeanor and salty mouth much more than I do. I like to cuss just as much as everyone else, but when Kenny did it, I got pissed off. I never could figure out why that was. I looked over at Clyde and almost laughed. He was tense and standing ramrod straight. His eyes were trained on Tweek, as if he could kill him by staring hard enough. The hilarity came from the fact that Clyde is a short dude, about 5' 5", whereas Tweek was pushing 5' 10". The sheer terror and violence in Clyde's little face directed toward poor spastic Tweek was the funniest thing I'd ever seen.

"So, Tweeky, how about you and I go somewhere and talk about your life away from this miserable shithole?" Kenny asked.

"AH!" Tweek shouted. "Oh wow, uh, yeah!" He seemed genuinely excited. It made me think for a minute. I'd seen him in the halls for a few days or so, never even trying to get to know him. How did it feel, I wondered, to have a school full of old friends, and everyone was either too scared to talk to you, or just didn't care? "I don't really know m-my way around the school. Can you show me the gym? I h-have Physical Education a-after lunch." Kenny nodded and walked off with the twitchy kid. Over his shoulder, he stuck his tongue out at me. I smiled wanly and waved him off.

"Jesus, that fucking freak scared the shit out of me." Clyde muttered. His short, brown hair looked damp with sweat.

"He's just a kid like us. You think he's gonna rape you or somethin'."

"No! I'd be able to take him… It just creeps me out. Everyone knows what he did." Clyde whispered. I glanced at him.

"I don't." I said. Clyde gasped dramatically. Ever since he got a bit part in the play last year, he had taken to 'expressing his emotions in more extravagant gestures, in order to understand his source emotions and character core'. Seriously, the shit that kid says.

"Oh man, I thought everyone knew! Dude, Tweek was in the hall, and this little third grade kid comes up and tries to push him! I mean, third graders need to step off and not fuck with big kids… But Tweek freaked the fuck out. He slapped the kid and started screaming 'shit, little shit, gonna fucking kill you'. Then he like, tried to bite the kid's ear off."

"Are you fucking stupid." I asked bluntly. "If something like that happened, I would have heard about it. I'm not listening to another word of your silly ass story."

"But… I ... Fine. Whatever."Clyde growled. We watched the other teens milling about, eating their lunches and playing with the snow. "I'm not ever talking to that freak." He grumbled as the lunch bell sounded.

I left him there.


	2. Chapter 2: Glacier

My heart was pounding. Kenny's arm around my shoulder only calmed me a little. He kept sneaking glances over his shoulder, and I knew what he was looking for. We rounded a corner and he deflated.

"Damn, Tweekers," He sighed, "That was the worst minute of my life." I nodded quickly. The panic was inflating in my chest, making everything swirl. "I didn't think he'd notice you so quickly," Kenny said, "but then again I forgot how much a guitar turns him on." He looked at me, a smirk creeping across his face.

"Jesus!" I screeched. "He's so much bigger than I remember." Kenny rolled his eyes and licked his lips in a mockingly sexy way. "That's not what I f-fucking meant! Ah!" My body twitched, so I took a few deep breaths. The pill could only take away so much anxiety before the dams broke.

"Tweek, I'm glad you're back." Kenny said. He smiled sweetly at me. I nodded in agreement. "I'm glad I have my friend back." I was swept into a familiar bear hug that I had missed for years.

* * *

Kenny and I were locker mates at the beginning of sixth grade. What started as locker buddies slowly became friendship. He spent the night at my house once, and then the next week he was there twice. Eventually, he was practically living at my house. My mother loved to dote on Kenny, and I had sometimes felt that she pretended he was the sane son she never had. It didn't hurt me, though. She still loved me: that much I knew.

Halfway through sixth grade, I realized something that scared me, yet excited me endlessly. I realized that I had a crush on Kenny. I figured it was just little kid stuff. In Health class, they said it was natural for boys to be curious about other boys' bodies. When seventh grade rolled around and my feelings had not faded… I knew I had to be gay. My crush on Kenny was more than that. I wanted to be with Kenny all the time.

Even though people assume I'm a nervous wreck, I can think very clearly. It's just hard to think about things that don't scare me. It's even harder to speak without letting the fear leak through. Every day I felt more afraid of Kenny. I was scared he would leave if he knew I liked him. Once I caught myself flirting at him, and realized that there was only one course of action.

It was just like lying, to be with him and keep my feelings inside. Even if he hated me for it, he had to know.

One night, Kenny and I watched a terrible C-budget movie called 'Glacier'. It was so stupid we were in stitches by the end. The main protagonist of the movie had been caught in an avalanche and then frozen alive. He was freed hundreds of years in the future after global warming had flooded the world. The man had to deal with the loss of humanity and fighting the insane fish-people who had taken over everything.

As we lay in our beds, (yes, my mom had even gotten him a bed, she loved him so much), a sad feeling wormed into my gut. Something told me it was time to tell him.

"Kenny?" I whispered in the dark.

"Yes, Tweekers." He whispered back.

"If you were frozen in a glacier, what's the one thing you'd wished you'd done?"

Kenny was silent. I shivered softly, in anticipation of an answer. None ever came.

"I, I think I w-would, ugh, wish…" A blush flew across my cheeks. I felt like I was glowing in the dark, that Kenny would see the heat rising off my face. "I would w-w-want to…"

Kenny suddenly whispered. "To kiss you."

"AH!" I screamed. "You read my mind! Oh god Kenny how long have you read my mind how long have you known I liked you oh man you were probably AH hoping that I would get over you!" I felt the rambling pour through, inane and ridiculous.

"Tweek." Kenny whispered. I shut up. He pushed himself up on his elbows. I could feel his eyes through the dark. "I can't read minds. I can read you, though. We're so close. I can read you like a book."

"B-but… If you knew. Ah! Why? Why did you s-stay friends with me?" I asked. Tears were forming in the corners of my eyes. Hot shame and anger were slinking in my veins. My stomach was a boiling pot, burning and turning over.

Kenny got out of his bed and came over to mine. He sat on the edge and sighed. "Tweek. I'm sorry. I'm not gay. But I am your friend. That means, no matter what, I'm there for you." The tears had fallen, and I sobbed openly. Kenny held me close that night, just to keep me safe from my own sadness. The feelings I had for him died that night. All I knew was that I was gay.

And that I was alone.

* * *

We were sitting on the gym bleachers when the lunch bell rang. The boys playing knockout basketball began to put the balls away. I watched them jog and smiled to myself. Plenty of cute guys here… but were any of them gay?

Kenny, as always, knew what I was thinking. "Nope. Not a queer in the whole group. I honestly don't know if we have any gays here, Tweeky."

"Ugh! Wh-why do I have to be the only damn gay kid in this school!" I shouted. The gym was silent as everyone there turned to look at me. Kenny did his best to stifle a giggle. "Uh-uhm, just kidding g-g-guys!" I said. I felt my face burning and knew I looked like an idiot. Kenny and I got down off the bleachers.

"Well that was certainly a great impression." Kenny said, smiling. "I'm sorry you had to be the one gay fish in this tiny pond, Tweeky, I really am. Just think of the positives!"

"Positives to being a loney v-virgin?" I grumbled.

"Hey, man, you don't have to remember anniversaries, spend money on dates, and you don't have to worry about STDs!" Kenny took the lead out of the gym and down the main hallway of the school.

"God, Kenny, so not helping." As we walked down the hall, I felt as if everyone was staring at me. I knew what they were thinking: psycho kid returns. The medicated calm I had tried to maintain all day was beginning to fade away. Kenny hooked his arm in mine.

"Calm down, Tweek, you're shaking." He said. His obvious concern only scared me more. Everyone was staring, I was the crazy kid everyone stared at oh god I would never be a normal kid again I tried so hard to fit in I bought these normal clothes and it was too much I'm having a nervous breakdown! "Tweak! Dude, calm down!"

Panic flooded my mind, it was all I knew. I clenched my eyes shut, to block out the curious stares of the kids in the hallway. Some part of me felt Kenny tugging me by the arm. I let myself go limp, let him lead me. Trembling, I followed him, allowed myself to be led. Suddenly I heard a loud, booming voice pierce my veil of anxiety.

"Need help Kenny." My eyes flew open. All I saw was blue.

"OH JESUS! I'm blind!" I screeched. A rough hand caught my jaw and wrenched it upwards. There he was. Craig, wearing a deep blue sweater, his hand… He was touching me.

This was the moment I had been waiting for, where I could make an impression on the boy I liked more than anyone else. I had to play it smooth. I felt my feelings bubble to the surface. It was time!

"Ewwww!" Kenny shouted as I puked onto Craig's sweater.

Thankfully, my body decided this was a good time to pass out. As I fell towards the floor, one thought echoed in my head.

'What an impression.'

* * *

Author's Notes: I'd like to express my appreciation to TheAngelOfMemories for allowing me to use her piece 'Creek' as the cover for this story. Please check out her other work, it's really pretty!


	3. Chapter 3: Popsicles

"What." I said. I looked from the puke on my jacket, to Kenny, to the passed out spazz on the floor. "What just happened."

"Uh, Tweek has panic attacks sometimes. It can get pretty bad. Do you want to borrow my jacket?" Kenny asked, eyeing the puke splatter on my hoodie.

I took off my hoodie and dropped it on the floor. I gruffly said, "Yeah. Give me your coat," as I knelt down and slipped my hands into Tweek's armpits. "Put it on him."

Kenny wrapped his orange pullover sweater around Tweek as best he could. I lifted Tweek and Kenny pulled him up by the legs. Kenny looked at me. "Are we gonna carry him like this all the way to the nurse?"

"No." I repositioned my left arm, supporting Tweek's back while I put my other arm under his knees. Kenny stepped back and began to giggle. "What's so funny."

"You look like King Kong carrying off that skinny blonde bitch!" Kenny said, laughing. I rolled my eyes.

"Seriously, let's go. Get his glasses off the floor."

We walked to the nurse's office in silence. Tweek stirred softly in my arms, occasionally mumbling. He was pretty damn heavy for such a skinny kid. I almost dropped him at one point. Kenny made sure to overreact like he always does, squawking something about 'brain damaged enough already'. He was lucky it was hard to flip him off and carry the fidgeting kid at the same time. When we got to the nurse, I made Kenny go to class.

"But dude, he's gonna need emotional support when he wakes up, and I fucking hate Algebra!" Kenny whined. I frowned at him.

"I have an off period. I've got nothing better to do. So go to class, I'll be here when he wakes up." Kenny opened his mouth to argue, so I shh-fingered. I then realized I needed to come up with a less gay name for that.

I walked past the nurse's desk and unceremoniously dumped Tweek's body on a cot in the office. The nurse jumped at the noise and looked at me like I was a psycho. To be fair, I've worked pretty hard at being one.

"Excuse me, sir, but what are you doing in here? And what's wrong with that boy?" She said. Damn, her voice was like nails on a chalkboard. I eyed her little ID tag all the faculty wore. 'Ms. Killikiff'. What a fucking loser last name.

"He threw up and passed out."

"Ok," Killikiff said, "You can leave for class now." I frowned.

"I don't have class. I want to take him home when he wakes up."

"You can't do that." She said angrily, "We can't just let kids leave school for no reason!"

I sighed angrily. This bitch wasn't really about to fuck with me, was she? "Ma'am," I said with absolutely no trace of respect, "Call his parents and ask if they can come and get him. If they can, then I'll just wait here with him for emotional support. If they cannot, ask them if it's ok to have him driven home by me. That way, you don't have a pukey kid in your office and I have something productive to do for the next hour or so." My voice was ice cold the entire time and reeked of authority. I'd learned very young that tone was everything. Speak like you know what you're doing, and people will think you do.

"Oh. Um, ok then." The nurse said. Apparently I'd gotten through that thick skull of hers. "Do you know his name?"

"Tweek Tweak." The nurse walked over to her little desk and typed his name into the school directory on her computer.

"Ok, it shows here that he hasn't updated his parents' numbers, last time we tried to contact them we didn't get through." Ms. Killikiff looked at me, smirking. "So what now?"

I rolled my eyes at the stupidity of adults. "They'll be in his phone." I quickly rummaged through Tweek's jean pockets and found his phone. It wasn't a nice smart-phone, which made me mildly surprised. He had such an Apple-hipster look to him. After a moment of searching, I found his mom's number. The nurse entered it into the system and called. The nurse looking increasingly frustrated as the conversation went on, so I turned away to look at Tweek.

He looked fairly peaceful. It was weird to see him not frowning or at the brink of tears. I noticed a single ear-bud poking out of the chest pocket of his flannel shirt. I yanked it out, curiosity beating out common courtesy. It was attached to a little blue iPod nano. I knew he was an Apple.

I sat down at the chair opposite to his cot and inspected the ear-bud for anything gross. It was clean, so I placed it in my ear and pressed play on the iPod. Some whiny, alternative crap started playing and I groaned. God, he had the musical tastes of a twelve-year-old scene girl. I looked through the artist menu and scoffed. All Time Low, We Are The In Crowd, and Paramore were enough to make me give up on this boy entirely. However, I was bored and music was one of the few things that could distract me from being a dick.

Slumped in the chair, listening to his crap music, I stared at Tweek. He looked really cold, even with Kenny's hoodie as a makeshift blanket. Maybe if he wasn't anorexic thin, that wouldn't be a problem. I had drawn the curtain, and the nurse peeked around it. "His parents are out of town right now, when he wakes up you can take him home." I nodded, not needing to rub it in further that I was completely right about everything. "So, just let me know when he wakes up."

It didn't take too long. Eventually I found a few bands I didn't utterly hate on his iPod and created a playlist for myself. After the fifth song, I noticed him stirring. His eyes slowly opened, and I noticed a disturbing lack of the usual nervous energy in them.

Removing the headphones and leaning toward him, I said, "You're alright, right." Tweak rolled his head and looked at me. Not really at me, though, more through me. He seemed burnt out. "Ok, that's a no. Tweek, I'm going to take you home now. Put on that hoodie while I make sure the nurse knows you're awake." Tweak nodded slowly and struggled into the hoodie.

I opened the curtain, but the nurse had left. "Jesus." I growled. When I looked back at Tweek, he'd barely gotten one arm into the hoodie. "Jesus." I said again. "Tweek, follow me." Quickly pulling the sweater down over his head, I grabbed the empty sleeve and used it as a leash. On the way past the desk, I scribbled 'Tweek awake took him home' on a post-it note.

Tweek followed behind me, creepily docile. On the way to the car I managed to coax him into putting the hoodie on correctly. He got in the car without prompting, so at least he wasn't a complete zombie. "I'm taking you to your house. You still live at your old place." Tweek nodded.

I plugged his iPod into my stereo and prayed it would snap him out of his funk. I didn't like this creepy, blank Tweek. It seemed unhealthy for someone who was so full of energy to be so calm. I started the songs on shuffle, praying that nothing too unbearable would play. My prayers weren't answered. Some super gay guitar riffs filled the car, and I gritted my teeth. This was going to be a long drive.

I pulled out of the parking lot, trying to block the annoying lyrics from my mind.

"_I found a skeleton under your bed, how could you sell me out for a kid like that? I'm doing everything I can to make you jealous, are you jealous?"_ I looked over at Tweek, and he was still blank.

"Tweek." I said sharply. He slowly turned his head to look at me and then looked away. I cursed under my breath. Maybe another song would help. I parked the car in a Seven-Eleven parking lot and fumbled with the iPod. Thank god Tweek had a playlist labeled 'I Love You' on here. Assuming these were songs he really liked, I played the first one and then watched him. Why the hell was I so anxious?

Surprisingly, it was a song I knew. _I Don't Wanna Be In Love _by Good Charlotte filled the car, the drums thudding due to my extremely expensive and awesome stereo system. The first verse passed without any effect on Tweek, and I felt like slapping him. There was a tight feeling coiling in my stomach, something hot and angry. When I realized it was fear, I almost shit myself.

The only thing that scared me was spiders. Stupid fear, but what the fuck am I supposed to do about it? But this, this blank Tweek, scared me. I racked my brain, trying to remember something, anything that'd help him. Some vague memory from middle school floated across my brain.

* * *

I had gone to Kenny's house for some reason, and when I walked in, Kenny was crooning a song to a pile of blankets. Kenny saw me and rushed me out or the room. He went on to tell me that the blanket bundle was Tweek, and that sometimes Tweek had major freak-outs. Kenny had found that the only thing that soothed the twitchy freak was singing.

* * *

I stared blankly at Tweek. "No fucking way." I said. "I am not singing." Turning away from him, I crossed my arms and leaned back in my seat. The song played and then died down. The next song played, _Check Yes Juliet_, and it was yet again one that I knew, if only because my little sister played it nonstop. I gritted my teeth as the guitar led to the main melody. God damn it, Tweek.

"Check yes Juliet, are you with me," I croaked out. I have a shitty voice for singing. I didn't know the rest of the verse, but the chorus had been etched into my brain. Thanks a lot, sis. I closed my eyes and let it out. "Uh, run baby run, don't ever look back. They'll tear us apart if you give them the chance… Don't tell your heart, don't say we're not meant to be. Forever we'll be you and me." I knew I had probably fucked up the lyrics. Sighing, I opened my eyes and looked at Tweek. I noticed he was twitching a lot harder. Probably a good indicator of mental illness in a person when they look good with a tic, I mused. Singing was the last thing I wanted to do, but if it would stop his creepy ass from scaring me, I'd do it. "Check yes, Juliet, I'll be waiting…"

Suddenly, Tweek's weak little voice joined me. I kept singing, if you could call it that, and watched his mouth slowly wrap around each word. His voice was much better than mine. "_Wishing, wanting, yours for the taking. Just sneak out and don't tell a soul goodbye."_

"Check yes, Juliet, here's the countdown. 3-2-1 now fall in my arms now." We sang the rest of the song together, and by the end of it, he was back to his normal albeit spazzy state.

When the song ended, he smiled softly, a blush rising to his cheeks. The next moment, he freaked the fuck out. I figured he was finally realizing he wasn't at school anymore.

"OH GOD!" Tweek screamed, "I puked on Craig's sweater and I passed out! J-jesus, how did I get in this car, w-who's fucking car is this?"

"It's my fucking car." I said slowly. He looked over at me and freaked out even more.

"Did I puke i-in your car, man? Oh man, if I puked in your c-car I am so sorry how did I get to your car where is Kenny wait why am I wearing his sweater oh shit did I kill Kenny and steal his clothes 'cause I don't think I can get away with m—" I shush-saluted him. Damn, that was a stupid ass name too.

"You passed out, and you looked cold. Kenny gave you his sweater. I took you to the nurse. You woke up but you were comatose like some sort of zombie. I put you in the car and I was in the process of driving you home when you creeped me the fuck out. I pulled over and sang that shitty song with you. Speaking of shit songs," I unplugged his iPod and set my car's stereo to 'CD 1'. Nine Inch Nails started playing. "There we go. Anyway, you're awake now. Do you need food."

Tweek's eyes were huge and round. I saw a hint of possible tears in them and felt shitty. Why I felt shitty, I didn't know. It just pissed me off seeing him look all wounded. He didn't answer my 'question', so I opened the driver-side door and got out. Leaning into the car, I stared him down. "Come with me to get food." He nodded quickly and fumbled with the car door. In the end I had to open it for him. He walked to the convenience store, looking like a skeleton wrapped in a bright orange shroud.

As we entered, the door rang a bell and the middle-aged man at the counter briefly looked at us before returning to his Sudoku puzzle. Tweek walked past the aisles and stopped abruptly.

"What is it." I said. He jumped a little and then began to stutter. "Do you want something." Tweek nodded energetically. "What." He pointed at an ice cream case. I almost laughed. "Jesus, it's twenty-three degrees outside and you want ice cream. Go ahead and get one." Tweek opened the case and picked out a brightly wrapped Popsicle. "Fuck, grab one for me too."

By the time we picked out drinks and snacks, school was almost out. Mentally I began preparing myself for the screeching call I would get from Kenny. I paid for everything and herded Tweek out to the car. We sat together, eating our Popsicles despite the snow and bitter winds. Hell, with the heater on in the car, the Popsicles were pretty good.

"W-when the weather is cold it's good to eat cold." Tweek muttered.

"That's stupid."

Tweek blushed and continued to eat. He looked at me and nervously smiled. "Yeah, it i-is."

* * *

Author's Notes: Thank you for reading the third chapter of this story! I love reviews and such, so feel free to share your opinion! And yeah, this is kind of a song-fic, but really I just use the songs to express the mood of the story. The songs in this one are Check Yes Juliet by We The Kings, I Don't Wanna Be In Love by Good Charlotte, and The Boys You Do Get Back At You by The Summerset.

Also, I'm trying to figure out a good update schedule. Is once a week too much or not enough?

South Park is intellectual property of Trey Parker and Matt Stone.


	4. Chapter 4: Frozen

I didn't know what to do. Here I was, sitting in Craig Tucker's car, eating and drinking and acting like I belonged. Embarrassment and excitement mingled in my brain, chasing circles around each other. Half of me was mortified that Craig had seen me in one of my fugue states. I'd only had a couple before. Stress mixed with disturbing events could bring them on. My psychiatrist had told me to avoid anything that was too scary or disturbing. Fugue states, he had told me, were defense mechanisms. People reverted to some alter-ego to protect themselves from situations they thought they couldn't handle normally.

I could remember puking on Craig, and then suddenly I was in his car. He had pushed me into the Seven-Eleven and bought me food. Now we were sitting together. Together, like friends. The thought brought a fierce blush to my face.

"What." He said. I shook my head fiercely. "When I'm done, I'll take you home." His phone rang suddenly, playing some weird indie song as a ringtone. He rolled his eyes and answered the call. Craig's face was blank as he listened. I could hear Kenny faintly and almost laughed. He could be such a mother hen at times.

"I have him. He was kind of vegged out for a while, but he snapped out of it. I'm taking him home. Yes. Chocolate donuts, a Popsicle, and some Diet Sprite. I don't think so, let me ask," Craig turned to me and said, "Are your parents home."

"N-no." I whispered. The intensity of his gaze liquefied my brain. All I could think of was those steely eyes staring into mine as he leaned in to kiss me. He'd be gentle with me, so gentle. He'd hold me down and keep me safe, kissing and loving me…

"Are you ok," Craig asked, "Because I'm not singing again." I realized I had been staring at him, hardcore. His voice snapped me out of my fantasy, and I could hear Kenny squawk 'You sang for him?' over the phone's tiny speaker.

"I'm fine!" I shrieked. He nodded calmly and went back to his phone. Zoning him out, I shifted the plastic bag that contained my donuts and Sprite, trying to cover any evidence of a hard-on. I couldn't help myself! He was the sexiest guy I had ever seen, he was all I ever thought about.

After what seemed like ages, Craig hung up his phone. "Kenny says you can't be home alone. Either I go to your place or you stay at mine until he can come get you. He's got work so he can't get you until around 8 o'clock. What do you want to do."

The thought of being in his house, seeing his room, was too much to bear. "Gah, we can go to my place, s-since there's no one home we w-won't bother anyone." As soon as the sentence was out of my mouth, I realized how it sounded. He did too.

"We won't bother anyone… ok then." He took one more gulp of his Dr. Pepper and started the car's engine. Driving down these familiar streets calmed me. There were so many memories in this town. The past few weeks had me reeling with nostalgia. They also had me wishing I had never come back. Despite my burning man-love for Craig, I knew being in South Park was the last thing I needed.

Coming to terms with being gay was hard. It always is. People seemed to think that one day, you just admitted you were gay and went on with your life. Not so. There were days where you felt good, but mostly I felt lost. Everyone was dating girls, growing up. Even Butters was dating, while I was sitting at home, masturbating until the frustration and loneliness brought me to tears. Being alone was the worst part of it all.

A short time after I had come out to Kenny, I bumped into Craig during lunch and caused him to drop his tray. Being my usual freak self, I got scared and profusely apologized. I was sure he would pound me into dust, or dump me in a trash can, or steal one of my shoes and force me to do something humiliating to get it back. Whatever he did, I would deserve it because I was a gay piece of psycho crap.

But he didn't do any of those things. I was standing there, frozen in my tracks. He looked at me, then the remains of his spilt lunch, and sighed. He picked up the tray, scraped what he could back onto it, and walked off. Over his shoulder, he said something that stuck in my head.

"Don't apologize so much. Mistakes happen."

From that day on, I found myself dealing with a growing love for Craig Tucker. He was stoic, quiet, and concentrated. In every way, he was my opposite... and I found it amazingly sexy.

We pulled into my driveway and I fought the urge to bolt inside and lock him out. I was suddenly realizing that having him in my house was just as scary and nerve-wracking as being in his. What would he want to eat? What if he wanted to play a videogame that I didn't have or he wanted to watch movies that I had never heard of or what if he decided to steal all my stuff and stab me in the stomach? He got out of the car and walked to the door. It took me until he reached the steps to actually get out of my seat, realizing he wasn't going to wait for me.

After fumbling to get the key into the lock, I opened the door. The smell of coffee flooded my nose and I immediately relaxed. I scrambled inside, shouting over my shoulder, "Put your coat and stuff wh-wherever, I'm gonna make myself a-a coffee!" The kitchen beckoned me with its warmth and promises of rich black caffeine.

Making coffee is where I'm at home. There's a rhythm to it, an after-school ritual.

Slip off the shoes, slide across the linoleum floor to the espresso machine. Measure out the coffee, put it in the hand grinder. Tamp the grounds into the portafilter, fit the filter into the group head of the machine. Pour fresh, purified water into the machine and make sure all the settings are correct. Stretch the milk, introducing air. Steam the mild to make it sweeter. Push down the lever, forcing the hot water through the grounds into the coffee mug. A single shot of espresso drips into the cup, and then the steamed milk is added. The sound of milk and coffee mingling is the best music in the world.

Music.

I nearly dropped my macchiato in the rush to pat myself down for my iPod. Usually, when I came home, I'd make my coffee and plug the iPod into a speaker. Then I'd sit in the living room, do my breathing exercises, and drink my first of many coffees for the afternoon. "Shit!" I screeched.

Craig's voice bellowed from somewhere in the house. "What."

"My iPod is gone!" I wailed. "I-it must have dropped when I fell after puking which means someone saw it in the hallway and picked it up and now they have it and they're adding rap music and polka to it and renaming it to something stupid like 'Steamroller' and I'll never get it back!" Craig poked his head into the kitchen. He had taken off his sweater and was wearing a tight, black t-shirt emblazoned with the Hogwarts logo. My mind briefly catalogued the fact that Craig was a huge nerd before continuing on its important quest to make me sound like an inane moron.

"I have it. I used it to wake you up." Craig said matter-of-factly. He pulled it out from his jean pocket and I almost cried in relief.

"Th-thank you so much!" I took the music player and practically cuddled it to my face. "Oh god, I don't know what I would have done…" With my free hand I picked up my macchiato, walking steadily to the living room. When I unlocked my iPod, my face went white.

He had been playing songs off my special playlist. The playlist that I had painstakingly put together, an amalgamation of songs I'd heard him hum in class and songs that made me think of him. And he had seen it. Playing it off as coolly as I could, I plugged it in and clicked out of the playlist. Before I could play a song, Craig called from the kitchen.

"Nice place. Can I grab a snack. Also, don't play anything too stupid or I'll have to leave." My mind instantly fired up, cataloguing all the snack food we had in the house while simultaneously wondering what music he'd find acceptable.

"Eat w-whatever!" I squeaked, going back into the playlist and scrolling through the songs. There was one towards the end I had heard him humming during the first week of school. We had passed in the halls for a moment, but the song etched itself in my head.

I found it and pressed the center button with my thumb, wondering if he'd still like it. I heard him opening cabinets, letting them close loudly before he found whatever he had been looking for. The song started up and my heart beat harder. This song was one of my favorites when it came to thinking of him.

The guitar was melancholy, wistful. The singer launched into his heartfelt song. "_Love of mine, someday you will die, but I'll be close behind… I'll follow you into the dark."_ Craig walked into the living room and sat on the couch. Settling a plate on his lap, he stared at me.

"I really like this song." He said simply. I twitched violently and nodded, screaming out in my head 'Me too! Me too!' A handful of Doritos and a package of Pop-tarts sat on the plate, looking like the saddest course in a meal, ever. I sat on the floor, my head bowed, drinking my macchiato as he munched on the chips. The song swirled around me, giving me goosebumps.

"Tweek…" Craig said. I jerked in surprise. His voice was soft, not like its usual edged tone. His eyes were half closed, and a hint of a smile ghosted over his lips.

"Yes, Craig?" I whispered. He set the plate on an empty cushion and slid off the couch, sitting cross-legged on the floor. My heart practically pounded out of my chest as he leaned forward towards me.

"This song is beautiful." He said. I nodded, leaning in towards him as well. Something wonderful was happening to me. I felt light, airy. "You're beautiful." Craig placed a hand on my cheek. "Tweek?" He asked me.

"Yeah?" I said, closing my eyes. He was going to kiss me! The thought exploded across my mind.

"Tweek." My eyes flew open. Craig was sitting on the couch, Doritos gone, a half-eaten Pop-tart in his hand. "Do you have cable."

Blushing, I nodded and pointed to the remote on the coffee table. Craig picked it up and turned on the TV. Eventually he settled on some cartoon I had never seen. All of his attention was focused on the television, and I thanked God for it.

Taking great pains to pull Kenny's hoodie down over the painful erection I was sporting, I walked to the kitchen and set my empty mug in the sink. Oh god, I just fucking imagined him making a pass at me, was there no end to my craziness? Ok, it's no big deal, I thought frantically, he didn't notice and it doesn't matter! Focusing on my breathing, I made a sad attempt to calm myself down. My efforts weren't helped by the sudden buzzing of my phone. There was a text from Kenny. '_Sorry I had to work Tweeky baby Craig will take care of you ;)'._

That damn winky face! Craig, 'taking care' of me? A shudder ran through my body as I considered what it'd take for something that crazy to happen. I pocketed the phone and sighed.

When I returned to the living room, Craig was still watching some weird cartoon. I sat on the loveseat, as far from him as I possibly could. What followed was the quietest fifteen minutes of my life. Every bit of Craig's attention was focused on the television. Occasionally he would look over at me with a disapproving glare when I fidgeted too violently or otherwise distracted him. The cartoon ended and I laughed nervously. "So, um, d-did I miss anything the couple of y-years I was gone?"

"The douche-bag gang nearly destroyed the town twice, we were overrun by dog-people, Kenny permanently died for about two weeks and came back, Damien almost killed me, and I think we found out that half of the town is built on ancient Indian burial grounds." Craig said blandly. He picked a piece of lint off his jacket and stared me down. A laugh bubbled up from deep inside me. Now I was definitely glad I had left.

"Wait…" I said, my face contorting in concern, "Damien tried to kill you?" Craig nodded quickly. "Why?!"

"Ask Kenny. I don't like talking." We sat in silence again. Why the hell was I crushing on such a douche? And why the hell was he so mean?

"Well fine! I w-will ask Kenny then, dick." I said. Craig raised an eyebrow and a hint of a smirk played on his lips. My heart skipped a beat. Did I just make Craig 'Fuck Everything' Tucker smile? Well, ok, it wasn't a real smile. But it was something. Craig turned off the TV and stared at me.

"He could tell the story better than me." Craig said seriously. "I don't like talking about myself."

"Why not?"

"Because I am boring, so I make the stories boring." He leaned back on the couch and sighed. "I just… don't like anything. My version of the story would be terrible. That's what I meant."

"So," I asked, grinning, "Why didn't you just say that?" He cocked an eyebrow.

"I did." The honesty in his voice made me laugh. "So, I wanted to ask, what the hell was that whole zombie thing."

Gah! He had to ask! "It's called a fugue state. I blank out, and I forget what happened during." Maybe he saw the discomfort in my face or maybe he didn't care, but Craig didn't pry any further. He turned the television on and we sat quietly until another cartoon started. It was another one I'd never seen. I don't watch a lot of television, and it's all the X-Files' fault. There was an episode where Mulder found out that some mysterious group was putting electronics into TVs and cable, and they caused people to go insane with fear. Ever since that day, I can't watch TV for more than ten minutes without wanting to cry.

"You like cartoons, huh?" I whispered. He nodded without looking away from the show. "What is this one about?" This caused him to stare at me, looking as confused as he could. Which wasn't very confused, honestly. Craig was not a master of expressions.

"You don't know what Adventure Time is." I shook my head no. "It's a really weird, random cartoon. I like it because of the music. This episode has a great song in it. Watch." His direct command tapped right into my brain, and I felt compelled to watch, despite my paranoia.

After about two minutes I had no idea what was going on. Some kid was crying on the floor, a yellow blob animal Craig assured me was a dog went to hell, and there was some kind of flame king and a little flame girl in a cage. Craig seemed really into it, which confused the hell out of me.

"Here's the song." He said. The yellow dog was now blue for some reason and had a flaming guitar, dancing around while singing. The song was simple and sweet.

"That was… cool? I g-guess!" I said. "It's not my kinda thing." Craig nodded and kept watching.

We stayed that way for a few hours, watching cartoons quietly. I made myself two more coffees, and was making a third when Craig walked into the kitchen. He leaned against the door frame and stared at me.

"What are you doing." He said.

"Making a macchiato," I chirped, "It's espresso and milk."

Craig frowned. "Isn't espresso really strong?"

"Yes. Usually I just have a single shot of it, but if I need to wake up, I'll do a double. Do you want to learn how?" I asked. It was a golden opportunity to get close to him, which was something I really wanted to do. Craig nodded and stood by me, facing the machine.

"What first." Craig picked up the bag of coffee beans and read the label aloud, "Deadman's Reach High Speed Blend. I've never heard of this."

Smiling, I took the bag from him and measured out the beans. "It's from Alaska! Th-they grow it on the archi-archi-archipelago." I frowned, realizing I had no idea what an archipelago was, just that they grew it there. "My dad started traveling, looking for the best coffee beans. He sends me a few bags every once in a while. Now grind these." I handed him the cup of beans.

"Why whole beans, why not ground." Craig asked.

"Honestly it just feels better to me if I grind the beans myself."

"Ok. I like that." He poured the beans into the grinder and began to crank it. While he was ground the beans, I opened the small cupboard by the espresso machine and took out some powders and syrups. Maybe Craig would like one of these better.

"Do you like sweet coffee? Or do you want it iced?" I asked.

"Chocolate. And if you can blend it in ice that's good." Craig looked up from the grinder and stared at me. I blushed furiously and turned away.

"W-what! Why are you staring at me?"

"I didn't stare, I looked."

"Y-you stared!"

"No, I looked."

"Stared!" I screeched. Craig slammed his fist on the counter. Shocked, I almost dropped a container of syrup. I fumbled it and managed to prevent it from shattering on the floor.

"I wasn't staring at you, I was just looking at you." Craig looked… actually angry. My heart sunk at the fact that I had pissed off this guy that I was trying so hard to please. "I just noticed something." He turned his attention back to the grinder. I realized I was shuddering and tried to control myself, setting the syrup on the counter so it wouldn't break.

"S-s-s-sorry." I whimpered. Craig exhaled, frustrated.

"Don't apologize," Craig said simply.

"Mistakes happen…" I whispered. Craig eyed me sharply. He nodded.

Craig sighed angrily. "I noticed that you don't stutter when you talk about coffee. That's it."

We made the rest of the coffee without speaking to each other. Craig and I sat at the dining room table, drinking and sitting silently.

Craig slurped down the last of his iced coffee and looked up at me. I fidgeted slightly, turning all my attention on my coffee mug.

"Hey Tweek." Craig said.

"Yeah?"

"I think you were right before. It is better to have cold things when it's cold outside." He gestured at his empty cup.

I giggled. "That's stupid."

A real smile graced his face. I'd never seen him smile like that before. "Yeah, it is

* * *

Author's Notes: The song used in this chapter is I Will Follow You Into The Dark by Death Cab for Cutie. I really love this song! Also, the episode of Adventure Time I reference is Incendium and the song is called "All Warmed Up Inside".


	5. Chapter 5: Chillness

Kenny eventually made it to Tweek's, and I was free to go home. I stuck around for an extra hour, watching them play videogames. Surprisingly, Tweek was super competitive and whooped Kenny's ass in every game they played. All in all, it was a pleasant evening.

When I got up to go, Kenny and Tweek seemed genuinely disappointed. Even when I pointed out that I wasn't contributing to the fun, they begged me to stay.

"Craig, there's no point in us playing these games if no one's here to see my ass getting handed to me!" Kenny whined. I flipped him off as I shrugged on my sweater. We'd run it through the laundry as soon as Kenny come in. It smelled faintly of coffee and fabric softener, which was much better than its usual mild sweat and pot smell. "Craaaaaaig!"

"No." I said. Kenny tried every trick in the mooching loser handbook, including puppy eyes and promising to be my best friend. There is no reasoning with this fucking guy. In the end, I had to promise to come by the next day. I rolled my eyes as I walked to my car. Great, tomorrow I'd have to work and then deal with them. No rest for the wicked, or for the friends of needy bastards.

The next day, work was boring as hell and I was actually a little relieved to go to Tweek's, as long as it meant I didn't have to wear my shit-eating grin. I worked as a server at Whistlin' Willie's, the pizza place I'd spent many a momentous occasion during my childhood. I didn't like the place then, and I fucking hated it now that it claimed 25 hours of my life every week.

I knocked on Tweek's door, silently praying that the damn blondes had gone out and I'd have an excuse to leave. Too bad for me, Tuckers have shitty luck. Tweek opened the door, looking surprised despite the fact I'd made the plans to come over right in front of him.

"Gah! Craig, y-you're here! Kenny isn't, yet." I nodded and brushed past him. I made a beeline for the kitchen, ignoring Tweek's sputtering and stuttering.

"Uh, do you want me to make you food?" Tweek asked.

"No. I can do that." I said, grabbing a box of Twinkies and a Caprisun. "If you want to make me some coffee that'd be cool. Your call." Tweek's living room couch called to me, and I answered the call readily.

Some people think I'm too brazen, or that I'm an insensitive douche, when it comes to other people's property. Not true, in fact. What they mistook for insensitivity was actually my way of making others feel comfortable. I sure as hell hated having guests over when they milled about, making small talk and acting like my house was an alien planet. When I say, 'make yourself at home', I fucking mean it. Take a shower, eat my food, sleep in my fucking bed, just as long as it'll stop you from pissing me off with your awkward ass.

Maybe I'm too negative.

So when I went to someone's house, I made myself comfortable. That way, they wouldn't have to play the gracious host. No 'can I get you a drink or some food, wipe your ass, suck your dick?', just chillness.

Tweek got with the program quickly, which pleased me. There's nothing in this world like a fast learner. I could get used to having him around. Not that I'd have a choice, with the way Kenny was plastered to the kid. The twitchy beanpole sat on the same couch as me this time, which was comforting. The day before I thought I had B.O. or something, the way he avoided me.

"Cartoons ok with you or do you usually watch something else."

Tweek shivered and rocked back and forth. "I don't w-watch television, so whatever you want is fine, ah!"

That was surprising. "Ok. Cartoons then." I turned the TV on and settled for the first cartoon I could find. For some reason, I fucking hate shows with real actors. I can watch any cartoon in the universe, but I can't sit through an episode of Breaking Bad to save my life. No matter how good the actors are, it feels fake.

It took me a couple minutes of Twinkie eating before I noticed the giggling. Tweek was laughing for some reason. I really didn't care why, but I knew it was polite to ask, so I did.

"Why are you laughing."

"Because!" He chuckled, "You w-watch My Little Pony!" A quick glance at the television confirmed that I was, in fact, watching that show.

"So."

Tweek instantly stopped laughing and started fidgeting. This kid was a goddamn push-over. "Ah! Nothing wrong with that it just struck me as funny and you don't seem the type to enjoy these kind of shows although I've never watched it so I can't really judge that Southern pony seems pretty cool I g-guess!"

I'm not stupid or slow, but Tweek talked a mile a minute, so it took me a decent amount of time to decipher his gibberish. I was about to retort that he could stop being such a kiss-ass when the front door flew open. Tweek dove onto the floor, worming his way under the table in a second flat.

"JESUS it's an earthquake or maybe an a-atomic bomb!" He screeched. I leaned my head back to see the door and watched Kenny walk in. McCormick slipped out of his jacket and threw it on the floor. He had a scarf wrapped around his nose and mouth, which made me grin. He knew me too well.

"Give me your fucking scarf." I drawled. He ripped it off and tossed it at my face.

Let me be clear. There are only a few things in this world that make me smile. Maybe about five things. One of those things is scarves. I have no idea why, but the sensation of a scarf is one of the best feelings in the world. I wrapped the scarf tightly around my neck and sighed, feeling infinitely more comfortable than I had a second ago. With my scarf, the high-octance junkfood in my hands, and bright cartoons distracting my attention, I zoned out.

Kenny jerked me from my feel-good state of mind with a rough shake of my shoulders.

"What do you need." I asked, keeping my eyes on the television.

"You have weed on you, right?"

"Duh."

"Me and Tweeky want to smoke, let me have it." Kenny said simply. Part of my brain froze as I attempted to process what he said. Tweek Tweak, resident paranoid, wanted to smoke pot? This I had to see.

"Alright." I turned off the prancing ponies and stood up. "Where we doing this?"

"Basement."

I followed him down to the basement where Tweek waited and immediately felt great about agreeing to smoke. The basement was decked out, a complete recreation room. There was a decent-sized flat-screen TV against the far wall, hooked up to a PS3. A small loveseat and three plushy bean-bags made a 'V' in front of the television. A billiards table was behind the chairs. A full-sized bed was pushed to the wall on my right. All in all, it was a comfy-ass place to blaze it up.

"Damn, nice set-up." I murmured. Tweek twitched and grinned.

"I use it as a second bedroom, basically. It's p-pretty sweet!" Kenny popped a DVD into the PlayStation and turned on the TV. I sat my ass down in the center bean-bag and dug into my shoe for my stash.

"Ah sick, you keep it in your shoe still? That's fucking gross!" Kenny said. I flipped him off and then unrolled the plastic baggie. A small joint and a fairly-big bud sat side by side. I brought it to my nose and inhaled, breathing in the sweet smell of good weed. "My pipe's in my jacket, Tweek go get it." Kenny said, taking a controller in hand and settling down on the loveseat. Tweek ran out of the room, up the stairs, and Kenny grinned.

"Why are you so happy." I asked.

"Just glad to be with friends." He replied. I nodded. I saw the menu for the movie flare on the screen out of the corner of my eye, and Kenny pressed play. "This movie is so badass."

"I'll take your word for it." I said gruffly, pulling out the bud and holding it up to the light. Kenny leaned in and inspected it.

"Looks really good."

"Poser, you wouldn't know kush from corn." I said. He punched me in the shoulder and laid back down on the couch. Tweek came thundering down the stairs, two pipes in hand.

"I g-grabbed mine from my room, too." He set the pipes down on the floor before me.

"I'm hoping you have a tray or something for me to put this on." Tweek went to the bed and pulled a bright orange tray from between the mattress and the box spring. "Where did this come from." I asked as I set about shredding the bud onto the tray.

"Whataburger." Tweek said. I did a double take.

"What the fuck is Waterburger?" Kenny asked.

"N-no, WHAT-A-BURGER." Tweak enunciated. "Popular fast food chain in Texas and the south and s-stuff." I nodded as if I knew that all along.

The bud had been shredded down, so I picked up the pipes. Kenny's was white and orange swirled glass that had a vaguely phallus shape. Tweek's was more interesting. It was bulbous and black, with small green and white specks of glass permeating the dark color. The texture was not slick but smooth, like velvet.

Kenny watched me handle the pipes and grinned. "You know Kenneth, meet Galactica!"

I assumed Galactica was the name of Tweek's pipe and snorted. At least he hadn't named it after himself like Kenny had. What a narcissist. I packed the bowl on Tweek's pipe and passed it along with a lighter to the twitching teen.

"Your bowl, you get green." I said. Green was a common term for the first hit, and it was coveted between Kenny and I. Kenny's eyes widened at my gracious offer. It may have seemed as though I was being polite, but I honestly just wanted to see Tweek high.

Tweek sat down on the bag to my right, accepted the bowl and lit up. His inhale was honestly kind of short and pathetic. In my head I resolved to never give him green again. He passed the bowl to me and I torched the bowl, inhaling deep.

Regret flooded my mind as I took the harshest inhale I'd ever experienced. Damn, that kid had a shitty pipe. Just goes to show that looks aren't everything. Tweek coughed as I passed the pipe to Kenny. Despite the burning in my throat, I managed to hold in the smoke for a decent length of time. The pipe made its way back to Tweek, who quickly passed it to me.

"You're not taking another hit." I stated.

Kenny shook his head violently and exhaled. "Tweek only needs one hit to get high." I scoffed.

"Not when I'm here. Take another hit." No way was this kid insulting my precious offering of weed. Tweek shrugged noncommittally and took back the pipe. His second inhale was a little deeper, and he managed to hold the smoke in for longer. After taking a second hit and passing Galactica, I turned to Tweek and studied him intensely. I was so curious to see what he'd be like stoned. Half of me hoped he'd be chill, and the other half was waiting for him to spazz out. Either way, watching Tweek get high was surprisingly entertaining.

Ten minutes after his first hit, Tweek was reeling. I wanted to laugh but I was afraid I'd discourage him. His twitches were less frequent and barely noticeable. However, his stutter remained, which was hilarious in its own way.

"S-so what are we… Kenny what are we watching?" He said, a lazy grin spreading across his face. I flexed my fingers and felt a radiating heat shoot through my hands. We had moved on to using Kenny's pipe, and he passed it to me, mistaking my flexing as a demand. I accepted graciously and toked hard. My mind started to feel light, so I set the pipe on the Whateverburger tray and leaned back. The beanbag rested in the crook of my back as I laid on the floor. Goddamn, everything was so fucking funny.

Finally, Kenny answered Tweek, "We… are watching… The Hey! Arnold movie." That was the last straw. Laughter fought its way out of my mouth. My entire body twitched with the effort I exerted trying to bury it.

"JESUS. Is Craig okay?" Tweek asked. He drew out the 'ay' sound of okay, obviously enjoying the feel of the word in his mouth. I was staring at the ceiling, but I could almost hear Kenny nod.

"He's afraid to laugh, or he won't be able to stop!" Kenny said, giggling. I nodded enthusiastically. Somehow I had lost my hat, and the carpet felt great on my scalp. I kept nodding, which caused Kenny and Tweek to lose their shit and laugh.

We watched and made dumbass comments throughout the whole movie. I finally succumbed to laughing at the point in the movie where Helga kissed Arnold. "About fucking t-time!" Tweek hooted, throwing a kernel of popcorn at the screen. Oh yeah, someone had made snacks at some point.

All good things come to an end, and my high began to wear off. I smoked more often than Tweek and Kenny, so it took more for me to stay high. I watched them giggle and roll around through nearly-sober eyes. An odd sort of happiness struck me, and the urge to smile was almost overwhelming. When the movie ended, Tweek turned off the television and plugged his iPod into a stereo by the loveseat. He got up on the couch with Kenny and sat slumped against him. I rolled over and lay against the bottom of the loveseat on the carpet. Sleep threatened to overtake me.

"Kenny, I'm napping. Don't wake me up." Kenny nodded and Tweek giggled.

I drifted off, Tweek and Kenny's voices fading away.


	6. Chapter 6: So Cool

As soon as Craig's eyes closed, I turned to Tweek, grinning uncontrollably. "F-fuck! This is so cool!" Kenny nodded.

"You know, it was kind of a big deal for him to give you the first hit."

Even an owl would be envious of how wide my eyes went. "R-r-really?" I asked. A tight feeling was blossoming in my stomach.

"Yeah, usually me and him bicker over green like an old married couple." Kenny said. He got off the couch, careful not to step on Craig or wake him up. "Dude, try saying bicker, it sounds so ridiculous."

"B-bicker," I whispered, staring at Craig's face. He looked peaceful despite the slight scowl that seemed permanently plastered on his face.

"I'm going to get more snacks. Pop in another movie, dude." Panic gripped my chest. I couldn't get off the couch! What if I stepped on Craig and woke him up? He might hate me forever or punch me or even make me recite a formal apology in front of a crowd of people while they pelted me with rotten fruit! Slowly, I inched my butt to the edge of the couch. Craig didn't stir. I set one foot down on the far side of Craig's inert body. It was so hard to do this stoned! My brain cried out in frustration. It felt as though it took me an hour to finally set the other foot on the carpet. Now, Craig lay beneath my legs. Could I stand up without falling onto him? What was taking Kenny so long?

With all my might, I shoved myself off the couch. I was so focused on not falling onto the sleeping boy that I didn't even think for a second about balance. With a yelp, I landed flat on my face. The carpet scraped my cheek pretty bad, but other than that I was fine. Success!

"What are you doing."

"AGH!" I shrieked. I rolled over onto my back and stared at Craig. He was still lying down, but his eyes were open and focused on me. "T-trying to get off… the couch!" Craig raised an eyebrow. "No, r-really I was!"

"I don't doubt you, dude, chill the fuck out." Craig said. He looked back up at the ceiling and sighed. "Wish you hadn't woke me up though."

Here's where my paranoia kicked in. Instead of his intended message, I distinctly heard Craig say, 'You will wish you had not woke me up.' I scrambled to my knees and whimpered, "Oh shit Craig! I'm s-sorry s-s-s-so sorry."

A low chuckle escaped him, and I gasped. He wasn't mad? "Tweek, calm the fuck down." Ok, maybe he was mad! "I was just saying that I wish I had gotten to sleep. I'm awake now." I nodded vigorously, trying to show him that I could be chill; that I could calm down like he wanted me to.

"O-ok."

"So, go on about your business." Craig drawled. Standing up, I went over to the DVD case and stared at it. God, why did I have so many movies? My drug-addled mind insisted it would take at least a year to read all the titles, let alone pick one to watch. The confusion I felt must have been fairly obvious, because Craig got up and came to stand behind me. "Trying to find a movie."

"Y-yeah but I can't decide on which one to watch." Craig's hand shot out and grabbed a case. I could feel the heat from his arm, so close to my side. It took every ounce of concentration to prevent myself from becoming aroused by it. He was so close I could smell him… It was a pleasing combination of weed and some kind of body spray.

"We're watching," Craig stated, turning the front of the case towards us, "Super 8." I nodded and then practically fled my spot in front of the case, rushing to sit on the couch. Craig shrugged and set about putting the DVD in the PlayStation. Did I just offend him?

"Agh, sorry," I said.

"What." Craig asked, turning towards me.

"Just… s-sorry." Craig rolled his eyes. The PS3's screen faded to black and the previews came on. Craig settled down beside me on the loveseat.

"Why are you so sorry all the time."

Why was I sorry? I wondered. "Ah… B-because I'm so weird, p-people don't like weird?" Really, that was probably the main reason I always felt to apologetic. My stupid spazziness was a burden on others.

"You're really not that weird. Besides, you're being what you are. Stop apologizing for being yourself." Craig said seriously. A blush spread across my face. He was being… nice. Weird, but it was almost sweet. "If we're going to keep hanging out, I don't want to hear you say sorry every ten seconds. That would piss me off."

If… if we kept hanging out?! Did this mean he wanted to keep seeing me? "Ok." I said quickly.

"In fact, you should do what I do."

"W-what do you d-do?" I whispered. He turned to look at me, and his eyes locked with mine. God, his eyes were so fucking beautiful. They were framed with heavy, dark lashes. His mouth opened, and I memorized every single centimeter of it. Lips chapped and pink, slightly crooked teeth… I was so entranced by it that I nearly missed what he was trying to say.

"Only apologize when you're not being yourself. When you do something that you would never do, that's when you should be sorry." His words echoed in my head.

I nodded. Suddenly, my mouth opened and words tumbled out without my permission. "Craig, y-you're so cool." I slapped my hands over my mouth.

A small smile crept across his mouth and I thought I would melt. "You could be cool too, if you calmed down a little." He placed a hand on my wrist and pulled my hands away from my face. "Just chill out. Like I said before, if you do something I don't like, I'll tell you."

The world imploded the moment his hand touched me. A tingle spread through my wrist and then shot to my heart, causing it to beat double time. I tried to wrap my head around the experience, tried to commit it to memory. This was something I would never forget. The time, the place, the clothes we were wearing, the lyrics issuing from the speaker (_If I had you… I'll keep you a daydream away, just watch from a safe place so I never have to lose)_… Nothing could be forgotten. It was all over as quick as it started, his hand already back on the PS3 controller.

"Could you turn off the stereo." He said calmly. I squeaked out an unintelligible response, scrambled for the stereo, and turned it off. Craig played the movie, and I sat down at the foot of the couch, trying to recover from his touch.

Kenny joined us with microwave burritos, and we all watched the movie. Everything felt good.

For the first time since I'd returned to South Park, I felt I belonged.


	7. Chapter 7: Cold Shoulder

AN: Ok, confessions time...

This story is not going the way I want it to. I already have it written up to Chapter 14, and I've started to dislike it... So! For the four or so people who read this thing (and I love you guys so frickin much), I'm probably going to put this on the back burner for a while. However, I'm going to be uploading a bunch of one-shot songfics and also *hopefully* a longer story more like this one.

One more thing: If you guys REALLY want to read this, I'll post up to what I have, and later on I'll rewrite this... thing. Just depends.

So, please review! I love getting reviews, whether angry or ecstatic, because they tell me whether I'm going the right way or not. So even if all you want to say is 'Great job' or 'This is a piece of crap', I'd love to hear it! Enjoy~~

* * *

For the next few weeks, Kenny and I spent more and more time at Tweek's place. During that time I think I saw his parents twice. They were always out on business. Kenny practically moved in, spending more time at Tweek's than his own place. I'd even tricked Clyde into going one day, just to prove that Tweek wasn't a murdering rapist psychopath. It was a small triumph, but one nonetheless.

One day, the Kenny and I were in my car on the way to the store. Kenny had demanded that we get a pizza before we went to Tweek's, and since he's practically got me on a leash I agreed. We pulled into the parking lot and I sighed.

"What's up?" Kenny asked.

"Have you noticed that Tweek acts weird sometimes." I said. Kenny laughed.

"You mean, like all the time?"

"No, just every once in a while he gives me the cold shoulder." Specifically I was referring to a few days ago. Tweek had dropped a deck of cards, and when I went to help him straighten up, he squeaked and practically flung a handful of them in my face. It had been an hour before he would talk to me again. "I think he's angry that I'm always around when you guys hang out. You two were friends before I really knew him."

Something about what I said must have struck Kenny as funny, because he fought to keep a straight face. Eventually he calmed down enough to speak. "Ah, man, he's not mad. I've only seen him mad a few times, and you'd be able to tell. He's just…" Something flickered across his face, and he continued, "Socially maladjusted." I nodded. That honestly made more sense than him being mad at me.

We made our way through the store, picking up a pizza and two-liter of Dr. Pepper. Kenny made a disgusted face, but I ignored him. Apparently Kenny had some weird thing against Dr. Pepper, but it was my favorite drink so fuck that. To placate him, I also bought a six-pack of root beer, which he and Tweek enjoyed.

"Fuck, if we get root beer let's get ice cream and make floats!" Kenny cried. I shook my head.

"There's like a foot of snow outside, retard, you don't need ice cream. Besides, Tweek's house is packed with junk food. I will eat my hat if he doesn't already have ice cream there." Kenny pouted all the way to the car, and then refused to get in unless I called Tweek to make sure he had ice cream.

"GAH! Craig?" Tweek answered.

"Uh, yeah. Do you have ice cream." I asked. In the background I heard Tweek mumbling, and then the sound of the fridge being opened.

"Y-yah, vanilla and strawberry."

"Sweet. Thanks, Tweeker, bye." I said. I pocketed my phone and got in the car. Kenny stood outside, mouth agape. "Get the fuck in, he's got ice cream."

"You… you just called him Tweeker." Kenny whispered. What was weird about that?  
"So."

Kenny shook his head slowly and got in. "I can't believe you gave him a nickname."

I scoffed, starting the car and backing out of the parking space. "I give people nicknames. This is not a new thing."

"But still… I mean, that's such a cute little name and usually your nicknames are mean." Kenny said. "Like, remember when you called me Mc-Cumfordick in front of that girl I was trying to get with?"

"Yes. I do remember that."

"Or when you called Clyde 'Shit-Face' for like, an entire week?"

"Yeah. He shouldn't have lost my headphones." Kenny stared at me, incredulous.

"Well, calling Tweek… Tweeker, is almost sweet." He said.

"He's a cool kid. Well, he's almost cool. Besides, he doesn't piss me off all the time like you and Clyde do." We were nearing Tweek's house when Kenny delivered a not-so-subtle jab.

"I guess so. Just sounds like you like him or something."

Jesus, this was why I was never nice to anyone. "Just because I give him a nickname does not mean I like him. It just means he's not a total shithead like most of the people I know." We pulled into the driveway and I stared him down. Whistling innocently, he got out of the car.

"Ok, ok, don't have to protest so much." He said as he walked up the driveway.

"Thanks for helping me with bags!" I shouted after him. As I toted the grocery bags, I mulled over what Kenny had said. It was true, I didn't give Tweek nearly as hard a time as I did to my other friends. But that was because Tweek was so harmless. Hell, he'd probably break down crying if I called him something mean. That didn't mean I liked him as anything more than a friend.

I wondered why Kenny even brought that up as I kicked the door behind me. That's when it all fell into place. Tweek avoiding me, Kenny making jabs about our 'friendship', and even Tweek's freak out the first day I saw him: Kenny had told Tweek that I was gay for him. A small stab of rage passed through me, and then I felt an uneasy calm. I'd have to straighten Tweek out about that, no pun intended.

When Kenny had his root beer float and suggested a trip down to the basement, I made my move. "Ok, but first I need Tweek to help me make an iced coffee."

"But there's like a foot of snow outside, Craig, why the fuck would you want iced coffee?" Kenny mocked. I flipped him off and grabbed Tweek by the arm.

"AH! Ok!" Tweek screamed. I practically dragged him into the kitchen. He reached for the coffee beans, which I calmly took from him.

"I don't want help making coffee. I have something important to tell you." There were no words to describe the terror in his eyes when I said that. Fuck you, Kenny. That poor bastard had the shittiest sense of humor. "Here's the deal. I think you're a really cool kid, and I enjoy coming over here to hang out. Count yourself lucky you heard me say that, because I never act this nice to anyone. The thing is I like this friendship. So, if you're ever worried that I might try and change what's going on between us, don't. Just enjoy hanging out with me the way we do, because I really don't want this to end. Is that alright."

Tweek trembled, and I felt shitty. Had I scared him or something? Then he smiled, and I felt my heart soar. Why the fuck did him being happy make me feel so good? He nodded.

"Y-you're right. What we have as friends it perfect. I always want to have you as a friend, C-Craig." He lifted a fist. I sighed and fist-bumped him. Was it too late to take back the cool comment?

"Now let's go downstairs and kick Kenny's ass at Mario-Kart." I said. Tweek grinned and led the way.


	8. Chapter 8: Winter Break

AN: Thank you so much for your support! I thought I was gonna cry when I read all those reviews! I will definitely post up what I have remaining, and if I get around to it, I'll keep writing. I'm starting two new stories right now, but I will try my best to keep up with this one as well! Enjoy~~

BTW, if you're looking for the NSFW stuff, it'll be appearing in a few chapters. ;)

* * *

It felt as though my entire world ended the moment Craig cornered me in the kitchen. I listened to him, realizing that he was calling me out for my crush and firmly denying any chance of a future relationship. But his face was kind, not disgusted. He didn't think it was sick that I had a thing for him, he just accepted it and still wanted to see me. That was what made me able to go on. If I really liked Craig as much as I thought I did, I reasoned, then as long as I got to see him it was enough.

The next day, Kenny came over alone, and I told him everything Craig said. Kenny sighed and shook his head.

"Tweek, I'm real sorry it had to end before it ever began. I didn't think that Craig was observant enough to see how you felt." Kenny took one of my hands and smiled. I smiled back, but he could see the sadness in my eyes. "Hey, just feel good that he's being nice to you. He's way harsher to all the girls he turns down."

"R-really?" I whispered.

"Oh yeah. Red asked him out one time, and he just looked at her and said 'No'. Like really blunt. So Red asked why. He says, 'You're not really asking that' and she says, 'Yes I am.' So Craig launches into his huge spiel about how she's slept with half the guys in class and that she wears little bra inserts to make her breasts bigger and all this crap. It was all truthful, and it was all Craig. She ran off crying, dude." Suddenly I felt better. There were a lot of things he could have said about me, and he didn't…

"By the way, Tweeky-baby, there's something awesome happening next week!"

I pondered that for a moment. "Winter break, right?"

Kenny nodded. "Not just winter break, though! Clyde's dad, he owns this huge store, right? So Clyde's family is rich enough to afford a winter cabin up in Aspen. Long story short, his family isn't gonna use it this year and they let Clyde have it for break. You, me, Craig, and a bunch of other people are going to go up there for two weeks and just have an awesome time!"

"J-Jesus, do you think I can handle that?" I whimpered. Kenny cocked his head to the side in confusion. "I mean, what if I make s-some huge faux pas and everyone decides to tie me up and put me in a closet? Or, GAH, if I fall off a mountain and g-get frozen? I'd wake up i-in the future, and get captured by sentient sea otters!"

"Dude, you're not going to freeze and wake up in a future inhabited by sea otters. That's stupid." Despite his reassurances, I could seriously imagine it happening. Over-active imaginations are a curse upon mankind. "Whether you want to or not, you're going" Kenny said. From his tone, I concluded he was right. In any case, there was nothing else for me to do during break.

* * *

We crammed into Craig's car along with all of our gear. I sat in the passenger seat, which was something very debated by Token, Clyde, and Kenny.

"Why does Twitchy get to sit in front?" Clyde whined.

"Yeah, I'm richest, I should get frontsies." Token said blandly. He was being sarcastic. Sarcasm was a huge thing for Token ever since he had become what he called a 'hyper hipster'. One day, when I had inquired about the difference, he said that a hyper hipster was sarcastically ironic. I took this as a good enough explanation. Mainly I had just wanted to know why literally everything he said had some measure of sarcasm in it.

"I'm poorest, so out of pity, I get the front seat!" Kenny said.

"Shut up and get in the back." Craig growled. They listened.

Craig had warmed up to me considerably since our discussion in the kitchen. I figured this was due to the fact that he didn't have to constantly wonder if I was going to try and gay it up with him. Every once in a while, I still had the desire to be close to him, but it was fading every day. Content with friendship, who knew that was a real thing?

The car ride to the cabin was way more fun than I had expected it to be. The only other car trip I'd had was to Montana, which had been awkward and emotional. Probably better to not even think about it…

I plugged my iPod into Craig's stereo, setting it to a playlist I had made the night before, which Kenny named 'Winter-Apocalypse Death Storm Twenty-Twelve!' Whatever makes him happy. Making playlists is something I pride myself on. I had spent the previous week assembling everyone's favorite tunes into one, beautiful creation. No one in the car would be unsatisfied, not on my watch!

Smashmouth's _Flo_ flooded the car and Clyde fist-pumped vigorously. He was a fan of older rock, seemingly stuck in the 80s and 90s. He loudly sang the lyrics, to everyone's chagrin.

"_Your friends keep telling me, I bear a striking resemblance to someone you used to know!"_ Clyde wiggled in his seat, making faces at Token as he sang.

Craig was smiling slightly as he said, "Jesus, Clyde, if you sang any worse I'd think Barbara Streisand was in here." Everyone paid Craig the obligatory compliment of shouting, "Ohhhhhhh!" at the top of their lungs. Clyde wasn't going down so easily. He ramped up the volume and sang directly into Craig's ear.

"_But you keep reassuring me, telling me to just quit slipping on it, and maybe it's me—"_ Clyde was silenced as Craig slammed the back of his head into the headrest. It hit Clyde in the face with a hilarious 'bonk'.

Over everyone's laughter, Clyde shouted, "Fine, fine, assholes!" Kenny patted him on the shoulder and made cooing sounds, which led to another rousing bout of laughing.

The song died down, making room for Nine Inch Nails' song _Only. _I beamed inwardly as I saw Craig tap his fingers on the wheel. He was a huge fan of NIN. Kenny, Token, and Clyde began a soft chant of 'sing, sing, sing', which I was quick to join in. We loved to make Craig feel uncomfortable. To our surprise, when the lyrics started, Craig belted out along with them.

"I'm becoming less defined, as days go by…" His voice was hoarse, but everyone began to do small dances, trying to encourage him. "Fading away, and well, you might say I'm losing focus. Kind of drifting into the abstract in terms of how I see myself…" I started to laugh at his 'singing' voice. He sounded like he was reading words off a piece of paper.

"Ah, fuck you guys." Craig said, acting pissed. There was a hint of a smile in his eyes, though. The miles passed as song after song played. Kenny didn't get into the music until one of the songs I handpicked for him came on.

"No way, you put _Crazy Bitch_ on this shit? Fuck yeah!" Kenny shouted. Tweek laughed as Kenny started to gyrate in his seat. Kenny turned his eyes on Clyde, who faked a swoon as Kenny started to sing. "_Break me down, you gotta lovely face, we're going to your place, and now you got your freak me out!_" Even Token bobbed his head, smiling wanly.

Clyde pointed at Kenny and belted out, "_Scream so loud, getting fucking laid! You want me to stay but I got to make my way!_"

When the chorus came in, we all joined it, everyone moving around and doing the best dance you can do when you're strapped sitting down. "_Hey, you're a crazy bitch, but you fuck so good I'm on top of it! When I dream, I'm doing you all night. Scratches all down my back to keep me right on at it_." I looked over at Craig as the chorus repeated. He must have seen me out the corner of his eye, because he grinned fiercely. Jesus, everyone loved this damn song.

Suddenly, he darted his tongue out and licked his lips before singing, actually _singing, _the repeated chorus. His eye darted toward me as he sang, "_When I dream, I'm doing you all night!_" My heart began to beat harder, and I felt sweat break out on my brow. Part of me knew he was just kidding, just swept up in the mood of the song. Hell, in the back seat, Kenny was practically dry-humping Token, to Token's dismay. But the other part of me, the part that hadn't given up entirely, kept repeating one thing over and over.

_'He is so serious'._

It took every ounce of my self-control to not freak out. I thanked God I had remembered to take my anxiety medication that morning. When the song finally died down, I fumbled with the iPod, picking the next song by hand. I needed something that would calm me down, kill the arousal rising in my heart. I thought I'd gotten over this crap!

I played _Some Nights_ by Fun. Craig protested, but I remained steadfast. "It's m-my turn to listen to something I want!" I chirped. Kenny and I sang along to the song, smiling and joking around. While we sang, Clyde, Token, and Craig got into a miniature argument over why Harry Potter didn't use a gun to kill Voldemort. I'd never read the books and barely paid attention to the movies, so I zoned them out and focused on the song. While I sang, I pulled out my phone and typed out a frantic message to Kenny: '_Jesus I am having a fucking heartattack I swear during that last song Craig made some sexy ass eyes at me he even licked his lips wtf.'_

I refrained from looking in the rearview to see if Kenny was checking my message. A second later, my phone buzzed.

'_I thought u were over him lololol.'_

_'So did I omfg but seriously.'_

_'dude he was just kidding around calm ur tits.'_

_'Ok ok you're right fuck.'_

_'Tell u what, later I'll ask him aboot it.'_

_'Fuck you don't do that.'_

_'Pussehhhh!'_

_'Kenny!' _He didn't reply, and I felt heat rise in my face. No way he was really going to confront Craig on that kind of thing, right? My heart hammered in my chest, and I didn't even notice the song change. It didn't register that Token had started singing, despite his 'everything's beneath me' hyper hipster attitude. We were almost to Aspen by the time someone noticed I had shut up.

"Tweek, what's up." Craig asked. I jumped a little at the mention of my name. I peeked in the rearview and saw that Kenny was asleep while Clyde and Token were busy playing some game on their Gameboys.

"Uh, n-nothing."

Craig rolled his eyes. "You haven't talked in like, forever."

"Just preoccupied with my thoughts, I g-guess." I turned away, staring out the window. Craig took this as a sign to shut up, thank Jesus. It was then that I decided to put it out of my mind, as hard as that was.

The rest of the trip passed normally. At one point, Kenny, waking up from what must have been an interesting dream, shouted 'whore!' This led to a running gag of everyone periodically shouting it at him. When we finally arrived in Aspen, Kenny screamed it out the window, like some kind of victory cheer.

We practically stampeded out of the car when we made it to the cabin. Everyone grabbed their bags and rushed in, frantic to claim the best room for themselves. I got a room between Kenny and Token, while Clyde and Craig got a room on the end of the hall and the attic, respectively. Unpacking my things, I practically beamed with how excited I was to be spending time up here with all these people. I was finally becoming socially adjusted, and it felt fantastic.


	9. Chapter 9: Hot Cocoa

AN: OK! Can I say how sorry I am for this taking so long? I really didn't intend to be away from the story for so long... But, all that time means I've had plenty of stuff to think about in terms of story development~ Sooooo... This book should be a lot better now!

Please review, it's like, the best way to motivate me to get off my lazy butt and add some stuff to this story! Also, kinda curious, if you've read my new story, Here's My Card, what do you think of it? And if you haven't read it... Whyyyyy?

One last announcement: My one-shot stories are up now, under Dude, We Have No Talent, so check those out if you want to.

Thanks for putting up with my crap!

* * *

Tweek was such a spazz, I had to mess with him. The way his eyes bugged out when I sang that lyric… It was too much. Part of me felt nervous teasing him, after our conversation in the kitchen. In my mind, I'd barely been able to convince him that I wasn't completely gay for the poor kid.

I sat on my bed and inhaled sharply. This room smelled like mildew. Sighing, I pulled my backpack onto the bed and pulled out my most prized possession. It was my journal/sketch pad. This was something I kept extremely private. I'm sure even my parents don't know that I draw. Gently I opened it, careful not to spill any of the loose pictures and articles.

Pencil sketches dominated the pages, with small patches of my chicken-scratch hand writing separating the pictures. A few of the pictures were inked, mostly action poses of women and men. Skimming the pages, my eyes greedily searched for a blank spot. The journal was almost full, which meant I'd have to buy another. That'd be an ordeal.

A blank page! I pulled my favorite mechanical pencil off the rings of the journal and began to sketch. A light circle appeared on the page. Letting my mind wander, I began to fill in the shape of a person's head and face. Occasionally I'd take a break, scribbling a few of my thoughts into the margins. Song lyrics, quotes, even snippets of conversations I'd heard were scrawled all over the place. The face began to take shape, and I lazily began swiping my pencil, adding wispy strands of hair. I went to draw the eyes when I heard a few chords being played on a guitar. I looked towards my door and listened. Tweek must have been playing in the living room. Kenny and Clyde were there too, their voices murmuring and low beneath the music. I stood up and walked to my bedroom door. My hand hovered over the door knob…

Instead of opening it, I leaned my ear against the door and listened to them laugh and sing. If I went down there, I'd probably just be an asshole. Sighing, I left the door and went back to my drawing. Tweek's song ended and the boys hooted loudly. Smirking, I began to outline the nose and finished the eyes. Another song began and I sketched puffy lips on the character. My hands moved quickly across the page, and I realized I was drawing Tweek. His eyes were wide, startled. His lips were parted slightly, as if to reply to something. My hand began to add the little details I could remember; briefly pausing to figure out if his mole was on his left or right cheekbone. His hair was messy, more like how it'd been when we were just children. I exhaled softly as I drew his narrow neck leading into his broad shoulders.

I dropped my pencil and put my headphones on. They were home-made, based off some posts I'd read on the internet. They were two crushed Amp energy drink cans fitted with the speakers from Hallmark singing birthday cards. Some inventive wiring and a plastic headband had resulted in fairly-decent quality headphones for under $10. People, especially hipsters, had gone nuts over them and demanded I make more. Fuck that. I'm the only one cool enough for them, anyways.

Escape the Fate's _Flood_ filled my head, and I turned the page. This wasn't the kind of song I wanted to use on Tweek, and I had a strict shuffle policy: no skipping songs when drawing. As the song played, I sketched a self-portrait, being as true to life as I could. I mused over the fact that human beings can recognize other peoples' faces faster than their own while I penciled in my dark eyebrows. When I was drawing, my mind was a river of consciousness, random thoughts spilling in from the deep recesses of my brain: I need new pencils – wonder if there are birds for me to sketch right now – maybe macaroni for lunch – Tweek's picture turned out okay – ugh my teeth are too crooked – wonder what his chest looks like – fuck it's cold in here – I bet his skin is soft – hmm where's my socks – soft…

Soft. I pulled off my headset and chewed the end of my pencil. A nasty habit, sure, but no one stole my pencils. Soft skin, I mused. Flipping back to Tweek's page, I tried to imagine the shape of his body. His skin would be pale, probably… but why would I assume soft? My brow crumpled in disgust, and I slammed the book shut. Stupid thoughts.

I swung open the door and stomped down the stairs. Kenny was sprawled across the couch, his legs draped over Tweek's lap. They both had a beer in their hands and were staring at Clyde, who was doing a riveting re-enactment of something stupid that had happened in the town while Tweek was away. I scoffed lightly, surprising Tweek who nearly flips off the couch. I flipped him off out of pure habit, and then felt a pang of regret.

I never feel bad for flipping people off, I thought angrily as I leaned against the back of the couch. Clyde continued with his story, a tale of goats and UFOs and Katy Perry. It's all boring shit to me, so I blanked out and focused on something else. Inevitably my mind went back to Tweek, and the picture I'd sketched. I must have zoned out hard, because next thing I knew, Kenny was shouting my name.

"Earth to Tucker!" Kenny cried. "We're gonna go snowboarding, you up for it?"

"Nah," I said. I'd resolved to finish the sketch, maybe then I wouldn't feel so obsessed.

"Suit yourself!" Kenny said. Everyone left to get ready, leaving just me and Tweek and a whole lot of awkward silence. Without a word, I walked back to my room, leaving Tweek sputtering on the couch. Probably seemed really rude, I thought. Then I pinched the bridge of my nose, frustrated with the way my mind was working. I'm not the kind of person who gives even half a crap about how I act, and all of a sudden I'm second-guessing every single thing I do.

My iPod managed to take my mind off my girlish behavior, allowing me to focus on finishing the Tweek sketch. Without even a second's hesitation I began to draw a loose fitting plaid shirt for him to wear, which would keep me from worrying incessantly about his body shape. I briefly contemplated whether I'd actually color the drawing in the end, and decided against it. I was terrible at that kind of thing.

The sketch consumed over an hour of my time before I needed to take a break and stretch my body. Leaving my sketchbook sprawled open on the bed, I went downstairs. Tweek must have been in his room, and the room sounded eerily quiet.

Determined to make some noise, I went to the kitchen and began looking for a good pot to make hot chocolate in. The dishes clattered and banged as I searched, a satisfyingly loud noise in the silent cabin. While pouring the milk into the pot I chose, out of the corner of my eye I could see Tweek sneaking into the kitchen.

"What are you doing." I asked. Tweek whimpered softly and seemed to deflate.

"I thought maybe there were robbers or raccoons or something in the kitchen, so I came to s-see what was g-going on." Tweek muttered. That's when I noticed he held his guitar, upright with both hands tight around the neck. He was really planning on attacking a raccoon with his guitar like that, I thought.

"Want some hot chocolate." I said, gesturing to the stove. He nodded quickly and leaned against the counter behind me. "Pass me the chips."

His hand, shaky and pale, handed me the bag of chocolate chips. I was about to pour them in when he chuckled, making me pause.

"What is it."

"Don't th-think that's going to work, C-Craig." Tweek said softly. Fixing him with a serious look, I motioned toward the pot, my oh-so-rude way of asking him to take a shot. Fidgeting a little, he took two smaller pots and put them on a burner beside the milk. He poured a water into a pot and stacked the empty pot on top, which he then filled with the chocolate. "This w-way, you melt the chocolate and then m-mix it with the milk after."

I grunted, taking a wooden spoon and stirring the milk. We were shoulder to shoulder in front of the stove. I found myself wondering what his skin felt like, if it was as soft as I thought it would be. Tweek stood stock still, only moving to mix up the chocolate chips and then freezing again.

"What are you thinking." I asked. Hopefully, talking would calm him the hell down.

"Agh! N-nothing!" He squeaked. I chuckled and eyed him.

"I'll tell you what I'm thinking if you go first."

Tweek inhaled sharply and then groaned. "I w-was just thinking how h-hot chocolate is a r-really old drink, and that chocolate used t-to be something only M-Mayan kings drank. Or w-was it Aztec?" He chewed his lip thoughtfully. "W-what were you thinking?"

My left hand grabbed the handle of the melted chocolate, while my right began to stir faster. "I was wondering how soft your skin is." Pouring the chocolate in, I waited for his reaction.

"W-what!?" Tweek shrieked.

"How soft it is. Your skin." I stated matter-of-factly. The hot cocoa was shaping up nicely, and I turned off the burners. Without giving him a second glance, I poured myself a cup and went to the living room. For some reason, a smile crept across my face.

Behind me, I heard Tweek walk quickly to his room. I sat there with my hot cocoa and grinned, feeling extremely satisfied.


End file.
